The door banged shut behind Mercury and the dark took everything.
Outside, the shouting dropped away to almost nothing, and for a second the whole world was two people breathing hard through their mouths in a space neither of them could see.
The air was close and still and carried the residual smell of dust and something older—wood, closed rooms, the particular staleness of a place that had not been opened from the street in a long time.
"Is he." Venna's voice came out uneven. "Is he going to be all right?"
"Yeah."
Mercury lit her comms and the screen carved out a small circle of the world—cold blue against the absolute dark, finding the edge of Venna's face, the blue hair, the set of a jaw that had not yet accepted the instruction to stay put.
The door behind them was solid under Mercury's shoulder. Outside it the continuous wet noise of the street continued without either of them.
"Then why did he tell us to run?"
